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THE LIONESS DECIDES
By John Brewster.
Rita, the big lioness, had been act
ing in an ugly manner. They say that
lions can detect the character of
their trainers; that a drunken train
er is in imminent danger of destruc
tion should he enter the cage. They
say too, that a good woman can tame
11)111
Began to Growl in Sympathy.
the wildest beast. Perhaps that is a
legend, though.
Mademoiselle Charmeuse had been
born Lily Leigh. Her parents were
honest farmer folks way back in
Shawnee county. But there had been
a maternal grandfather who ran
away to sea. It is not boys only that
inherit the roving disposition. When
she was seventeen Lily had shaken
the dust off her shoes at the (back)
-ice to the farm and departed in
- of a traveling show, to
as Mademoiselle Char
meuse, the world-famous equestri
enne. Afterward, when business
prospered and the show increased in
size and aspirations, she became Ma
demoiselle Charmeuse, the renowned
lion-tamer.
Some folks think circus people are
almost as bad as gypsies. That is not
the case. There are no more moral
and respectable peopel alive. Nobody
had ever breathed a word against
Mademoiselle Charmeuse's reputa
tion. Goldini, the proprietor, and the
motherly Madame Goldini treated
her like a daughter, even if they had
picked her up in an illegal manner,
struck by her pretty face and daring.
But when Madame Goldini grew too
stout to continue to tame the lions,
and resigned herself to looking after
the welfare of the circus troupe, in
comfortable middle life, Mademoi
selle Charmeuse was thrown much
more in touch with Goldini.
It was her task, together with Ne
ro, the big Dalmatian, to put the lions
through their paces at every country
place where they exhibited. Goldini
himself seldom entered the lions'
cage nowadays. He was growing fat,
like his wife; besides, the lions had
begun to appear restless under his
lash. Goldini knew what was the
trouble. He knew it in his own souL
He loved Mademoiselle Charmeuse.
The girl, always responsive to the
kindness of the couple, was staggered
at the unmistakable display of the
fact that Goldini's interest in her was
no longer paternal. Love had never
come into her life. How could it?
What had she in common with the
crowds of gaping farmers' boys who
stared at her in her short skirts and
spangles, or followed her with moon
calf protestations of devotion? She
was as much alone as though she
dewlt on a desert island.
Goldini loved her, and, in her pres
ence, the man's own crushed nature
flourished. He had been destined for
better things. He was a university
man; he had been in the Italian army,
though none know this intimate se-